


Garreg Mach Animal Hospital

by Savrola



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Vampires, Veterinary Clinic, Veterinary Medicine, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savrola/pseuds/Savrola
Summary: There's a safe place for shapeshifters and vampires to not only get good work and be able to express who they are, but utilize their talents for good.  They just have to tolerate each other.[Supernatural animal hospital wherein BE are mostly vampires, BL are shapeshifters and others will come later.]
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: implied, not graphic, animal abuse. But all animal abusers will get their throats sufficiently torn out, so

The moonlight wanes, trickling away to the west as the sun begins to bleed into the sky. It turns black into purple, into pink and then orange, and it sets nearly every person in Garreg Mach Animal Hospital on edge. They are no longer welcome in daylight, as they know, and though they don't want to admit it they all sneak glances out the windows with increasing frequency as the sun grows nearer and their anxiety waxes.

"I can finish up, if you guys have to go," Caspar offers over the last of his paperwork, and Linhardt and Hubert frown their answer in unison. 

Linhardt is positioned at the window in the break room, arms crossed behind his back -- he'd always been most awake at night when he was human, and now, in their reverse twilight hour, he is again awake as the others grow sluggish. His eyes catch movement and he sighs, turns back to collect his book bag. "Day shift is here," he mutters.

Hubert casts a disdainful look out the window. "They're late. They know how that irritates her."

Half a mile behind the hospital across open, barely-maintained field, the treeline shudders with life. Out of it strides a great golden wolf, his head hung in exhaustion, only picking it up to lope towards the back gate and sniff around the edge of the fence; he finds what he's looking for, a perfectly-shaped hole, and sneaks under it and into the hospital's back yard.

The forest again opens up so a wolf with silken navy fur can emerge in a clipped trot, tail halfway up and stiff. A grinning red wolf is at his heels, bounds to his side and nips at his scruff, and he only stops when he is bitten in turn and he leaps back with a whine. The gap between them and their leader is quickly closed once they're on the inside of the fence. The red wolf licks an apology on the navy one's ear, and it's grudgingly accepted.

The blond wolf pauses when he reaches the porch and looks over his shoulder expectantly.

Linhardt leaves the break room and goes to open the back door, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he turns the corner and finds it already wide open, a naked redhead with a swaying tail yawning on the threshold. "No need to get it for me, but thanks," says the wolf with a wink, and Linhardt nods and continues reading whatever has captured his interest.

"Dude," Caspar groans and covers his eyes with his palms like an elementary school boy. "Why can't you guys keep your clothes on like in the movies?"

"You ever seen a clothed wolf?" Sylvain says, and unhooks a long white coat from its place on the rack, "It's not a pretty sight."

And with that he slips back outside, tosses the coat to the leader wolf who nods his appreciation. Dimitri indeed looks awkward clothed; his legs aren't meant to fit into the long sleeves so he fights to arrange them properly, to preserve his modesty, before he begins to shift. Once he finally possesses fingers he buttons it at the front, covers himself and steps inside. He holds the door open so the small blue wolf can enter as well.

Caspar marvels at Dimitri as his ears migrate from the top of his head to the sides, shifting from furry to hairless, angular to round. His tail shrinks until it is nothing at all beneath his lab coat. 

Caspar sighs. "Woah. I wish I could be a werewolf,"

"Ugh. _Animals._ " Hubert hisses under his breath, and all the ire his one exposed eye can direct is focused on the half-naked figure of Sylvain, who is stepping into his scrubs in the pharmacy.

"You say that like it's an insult," he says with a laugh. Felix normally would have already set off for his locker to retrieve his own clothes, but instead he is paused at the cage of a patient, a heavily-pregnant dachshund who is pleased to touch noses with him through the cage bars. Upon hearing Hubert he bares his teeth, and the dog scurries to hide beneath her blanket.

"You chose to take it as an insult," Hubert replies, arms crossed.

"That's quite enough," Edelgard emerges from her office, her hair, for once, loose and stringy from its usual bun. "There's no need for any more animosity."

"I agree." And finally Dimitri has his clothes on, and he ushers Felix towards the bathroom to dress, too. Felix goes, with another growl trailing after him the entire way. "I apologize for my pack," says the man with a sigh, "We've been out all night and haven't gotten a chance to rest."

Caspar's interest is once again ignited. "Oh, cool! What did you do? Did you go hunting?"

"No, just patrolling our territory," Dimitri says. "You really seem to believe everything we do must be cool, Caspar."

"Because it _is_ \--" 

And Edelgard waves gently to get Dimitri's attention, murmurs, "Doctor, I need to speak with you."

They bow out together into the pharmacy, where Sylvain is flipping through the computer glancing over case reports from the night shift. "What's this? Cat hit by a car, surrendered?"

Edelgard's lips are a thin, firm line. "Yes. I need you to try to speak with him," she says, "It was a strange situation, the client claimed he found the cat already hit on the road and dropped him off for euthanasia. Linhardt says he can tell he was lying, but the man didn't stay around long enough for us to get further details."

"What's the point of reading minds if you can only get vague shit like that?" Sylvain snorts, and Edelgard cannot help but roll her eyes. "He must not be a good mind-reader, or whatever."

"I don't doubt Linhardt's abilities, only his will to utilize them properly," she finally says. "Reading takes concentration and energy. Regardless the cat is little more than a kitten, so Caspar said he's going to adopt him. But if you can speak to him, we might be able to ascertain some answers."

"I don't believe we'll have any problem with that," Dimitri says confidently, "Sylvain is by far the best with cats. They seem to trust him."

"Is that why you get along with Felix so well?" Linhardt appears, as usual, only when needed or when he can make a snide remark. He's still focused on his screen.

Sylvain grins. "He does kind of act like a cat, doesn't he? Always growling and swatting at everyone. And he's always pissed off."

"I'm mostly just pissed off at you," Felix calls from the break room where he's glued to the coffee machine, counting down the seconds until his drink is finished.

With a pouty lip Sylvain gets up from his chair and saunters into the break room, huffing once he reaches Felix's side to whisper something in his ear. Felix swats at him.

Edelgard passes Linhardt a 5$ bill, lips still set, and Linhardt pockets it.

"What's that for?" Dimitri dares -- but he isn't certain he really wants to know. The sound of Sylvain whimpering in pain comes from the other side of the hall.

"We're taking bets on who's going to ask who out first," Linhardt pockets his cell, "It's only a matter of time, after all. How long have they been like that?"

"Been like what?" Dimitri blinks, and it comes off like he's joking, faking naivety, but then -- it's Dimitri, who blushes a little when discussing heats with clients.

"The way they dance around one another, is that like a wolf thing, or --?" Caspar adds a pair of bills to Linhardt's hand, surely to make it quite the stack.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a 'them' thing," Ingrid announces her presence by poking her head into the pharmacy and saluting, latte in hand, when Dimitri waves.

"Well, since you're all here, I'll round you on the dogs in the ICU and leave," says Edelgard curtly, and Sylvain re-enters with a mug of tea in his hand.

"Yeah, where's that cat?"

The night crew files out swiftly, Hubert and Edelgard, as always, carpooling together in a sleek black-and-chrome car with dark windows. Mercedes, habitually late but bearing snacks, waves to them as she arrives and wonders if they might actually be members of some government organization -- they simultaneously slip on their sunglasses and drive away into the sunrise looking like something out of an action movie.

Caspar, the only one not allergic to sunlight, has to be herded away by Linhardt before he gets caught up in another awkward conversation with the wolves about the exact details of their shifting.

"We brought your favorite, Doctor Blaiddyd," Annette sings as she opens the front door with her back and dances inside, carrying the platter of doughnuts as Mercedes sorts out their bags.

Dimitri forces a smile; he told them long ago that the bacon and maple doughnuts they'd made, the product of being unable to agree on a question of savory versus sweet, were delicious -- he wasn't sure if they actually were, but it was worth the joy on their faces as they began passing out doughnuts on plates. He didn't have the heart to tell them he couldn't taste and only barely smell, and he'd sworn the pack to secrecy.

Felix sits at the computer beside him, the dachshund with the swollen belly curled comfortably in his lap as he finishes typing notes. "Just a bite for me, please," he murmurs as Annette approaches, "I caught a squirrel on the run over."

Annette sticks her tongue out. "That's so gross! You never know what those things have been eating, Felix."

"Nuts, judging by the taste," Felix muses, and keeps his eyes on his records as he takes a bite.

"Do you have any idea what kind of diseases that thing can give you?" 

"No, but I'm sure that you're going to tell me," and, finding the doughnut to be more savory than he expected, Felix takes another bite. Annette, eager to show off her vet school knowledge, begins her lecture.

Then Sylvain appears from the isolation room looking like a bomb ready to go off. The whiplash of his normally carefree expression becoming suddenly so dark silences Annette instantly, plasters stiff frowns on the other wolves. "Get me the address on that fucker," he says.

"Who?" Mercedes sets down her platter and goes to check the computer anyway.

"The one who brought the cat in last night. The HBC."

In black letters on the screen is the information, name, number, and Sylvain only hopes it's real. "I'm going out," he wheels towards the back door again and shimmies out of his pants. "Felix, come with me. I'll tell you on the way."

"Where are you going?" Dimitri blinks. Felix passes the dog to Mercedes and pulls his shirt off -- he decided long ago that if something is bad enough to get Sylvain pissed off, it probably is enough to get him pissed off, too.

" _Out,_ " Sylvain says again, and tosses his scrub top in the laundry pile as his tail begins to wiggle out above his waistband.

The two leave a string of clothes behind them on the path toward the treeline, disappearing together at breakneck speed.

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, the kitten sleeps in perfect comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HBC = hit by car we use a lot of abbreviations
> 
> Hi I'm actually a vet nurse and I actually have no shame. This is NOT an accurate description of what it's like to work in an animal hospital but yeah we do totally snuggle your pets when we're at the desk doing boring shit.
> 
> Don't worry I have every intention of adding more characters/more races later, please feel free to leave suggestions/ideas because this doesn't really have an overreaching STORY it's just a series of one-shots because I like this concept.
> 
> Fun vet fact of the day: when it comes to thyroid disorders, cats are much more likely to be hyperthyroid, while dogs are much more likely to be hypothyroid. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: referenced, not graphic animal abuse. All animal abusers get their throats ripped out though. :)

A morning of routine vaccines and puppy visits keep Dimitri occupied and focused through til lunch comes, and then an emergency walks in the door: a dog got into a fight with her housemate and walked away with her tail between her legs and a bite wound on her flank. Once behind closed doors the shepherd mix tells Dimitri that the other dog was 'asking for it' and Dimitri, with a sigh, nods and gives her a sedative.

Mercedes and Ingrid gently lift the dog into a recovery cage just as the clock strikes 2: the _end_ of what should have been his lunch.

Annette comes to him beaming, says his next appointment cancelled and it's his turn to run out and pick up everyone's lunch order anyway, that she already called it in and there's extra chips and queso in it for him -- due to something called 'taco Tuesday'.

How tacos managed to ensnare an association with an entire day of the week, Dimitri can't be sure, but he heads out for the Tex-mex restaurant up the road anyway.

He returns just as tired as he was when he left, leaves the bags of food in the break room for everyone to get when they can, and eagerly sets his sights on the oak desk and the big, comfy swivel chair that is calling his name for a nap. Chips can come later.

Ingrid is waiting for him there with a frown. "They came back," is all she says.

"Where are they?"

"Upstairs," and her lips purse. "They were covered in blood. I tried to make them sit still so we could clean them up but they just ignored me and went upstairs," and it turns into seething then and Dimitri pats her shoulder with a sigh, his insides just as twisted up in fear and flashes of deja vu as hers must be. "They're going to get themselves killed at this rate."

"They're going to be fine," is all he can offer lamely, and he makes for the staircase. "I'll talk to them." Ingrid makes for the break room the instant the scent of tacos hits her.

Upstairs is an apartment in all but name; nobody was ever meant to live there permanently, rather it offers a sofa and TV for breaks and football games, a stovetop to make meals and a refrigerator and microwave for when those meals inevitably get abandoned for the sake of some emergency -- and a small bedroom, for long shifts that run even longer than they should and the few exhausted hours of quiet they can sneak here and there. Dimitri doesn't need to have a good sense of smell to check the bedroom first.

Felix remains shifted in his wolf shape and curled into a tight ball, his breathing slow and even. His face, for once, seems at peace as Sylvain, also shifted, runs his tongue up and down it, cleaning him where he hadn't stopped to allow anyone else to. 

Dimitri thinks he should probably get in on that betting pool, then shakes the idea from his head.

"Where have you been?" he leans against the door frame. If ever a wolf could pout, Sylvain does, looks between Dimitri and the sleeping Felix beside him.

"If you don't wish to wake him, then let him sleep. We should talk." Footsteps follow him as he leaves, soft, padding, two pairs, until there's a pause and that turns to one pair of loud, heavy strides. Dimitri heaves himself on the sofa with a sigh of relief as his packmate sniffs around the kitchen like a scavenging hound. "What were you out there doing?"

"Don't act stupid, Dimitri," Sylvain says around a mouthful of jerky he's found -- who it belongs to, he isn't sure. Probably Ingrid. "We've done this before. You've come _with_ us."

He hasn't forgotten, least of which by the way Sylvain's chest is puffed out, his shoulders back, he fancies himself a joyous dispenser of the justice that can only be found in the gaps between his fangs -- "You put the whole pack at risk every time you do this."

"The cat told me he'd been with that guy since he was a baby and he hit him. He ran him over on _purpose_."

"We can file a report with the police."

"What, and get told 'oh yeah we'll look into it' again? No. Besides, guy's dead now."

They've forgotten to be quiet and so Felix enters then, cranky as ever to be woken. Sylvain offers him an apologetic look. Humans can only suffer bedhead on their _head_ , yet for Felix it extends to his entire body. It is compounded by the dried mud all over him, which acts like hair gel and sticks his many cowlicks where they are; but he manages to be beautiful as he always is, though whether it's because of or in spite of the mess Sylvain can't be sure.

Dimitri's hand is at his temple, massaging as if doing it hard enough might do the work of therapy and a cold beer all at once. Sylvain tosses a piece of jerky to Felix and reclines against the kitchen counter. "Don't worry, we did it right. He lived in the middle of nowhere anyway, so it's not like the neighbors heard or whatever. This isn't the city, Dimitri."

It isn't. But in the path Felix had walked he'd left pawprints of dirt and blood, stale and dried and what little of Dimitri's nostrils still work pick it up, send him rushing back to the madness of the concrete jungle that was their training ground.

He sees them all gathering to attack at moments to dawn, catch them unawares, his father fussing with Glenn to stay as close to him as possible, not to let anything happen to him. And it doesn't -- at least, nothing he can _fix_ happens to him.

And nothing he can fix happens to Glenn, either, but he tries anyway even as his head flies back and he gasps his last breaths, and Dimitri is both joyful and sad that he is human-shaped so he doesn't understand what the wolf says. And from that last breath Glenn is gone in every form but a ghost.

One piece of that ghost appears at the head of the stairs, tying her braid up in a bun to better keep it out of her face. She sees Sylvain, naked, filthy and eating her jerky and instead removes her hair tie so she can slingshot it at him. (It hits him square between the eyes, and Dimitri almost beams with pride both first and secondhand) "Look at this mess! You're both kidding yourselves if you think I'm cleaning this up."

"Ingrid --"

"No, she's right." Dimitri stands, "You two should clean yourselves up first, then tidy up here. Once you're done we can go down to the stable."

Sylvain can already hear the distressed whinnies in his ears, and he grimaces. "Yeah, alright. Felix, you want the shower first or --"

"Oh, no," Ingrid says, and in the shine of her smile is another piece of Glenn's ghost because it's the same as his when he caught them in the middle of mischief as pups and realized he had leverage, "If you two want to act like dogs, I'll hose you off like dogs. Come with me."

Not wanting to see any more torture firsthand Dimitri gets down the stairs first and bolts for his office. Ingrid, a wolf scruff in either hand, follows immediately after, though once she catches a glimpse of a rare sight -- a pair of clients allowed in the back -- she freezes.

There's a burly man with a wide smile and wild curly hair cradling the tiny dachshund in his arms, his enormous sausage fingers massaging gentle circles into her back. He offers her a smile, seeming unfazed by how startled she is, while his companion, a shorter, silver-haired boy, seems just as stunned as she is.

He laughs nervously, "Oh, dear. What's wrong with those poor dogs?"

"Nothing," Ingrid smiles back, drags the limp-eared wolves past him towards the back door, "They're just idiots."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun vet fact of the day: short faced dogs (pugs, bulldogs) are called brachycephalic. Long faced dogs (greyhounds) are called dolichocephalic!
> 
> My Twitter is [@LadySavrola](https://mobile.twitter.com/LadySavrola)
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment or kudo!

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [@LadySavrola](https://mobile.twitter.com/LadySavrola)


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